CHAPTER IV.
HOW HEREWARD TOOK SERVICE WITH RANALD, KING OF WATERFORD.
The coasts of Ireland were in a state of comparative peace in the middleof the eleventh century. The ships of Loghlin, seen far out at sea, nolonger drove the population shrieking inland. Heathen Danes, whetherfair-haired Fiongall from Norway, or brown-haired Dubgall from Denmarkproper, no longer burned convents, tortured monks for their gold, or (asat Clonmacnoise) set a heathen princess, Oda, wife of Thorgill, son ofHarold Harfager, aloft on the high altar to receive the homage of theconquered. The Scandinavian invaders had become Christianized, andcivilized also,--owing to their continual intercourse with foreignnations,--more highly than the Irish whom they had overcome. That waseasy; for early Irish civilization seems to have existed only inthe convents and for the religious; and when they were crushed, merebarbarism was left behind. And now the same process went on in theeast of Ireland, which went on a generation or two later in the eastof Scotland. The Danes began to settle down into peaceful colonists andtraders. Ireland was poor; and the convents plundered once could not beplundered again. The Irish were desperately brave. Ill-armed and almostnaked, they were as perfect in the arts of forest warfare as thosemodern Maories whom they so much resembled; and though their blackskenes and light darts were no match for the Danish swords andbattle-axes which they adopted during the middle age, or their plaidtrousers and felt capes for the Danish helmet and chain corslet, stillan Irishman was so ugly a foe, that it was not worth while to fight withhim unless he could be robbed afterwards. The Danes, who, like theirdescendants of Northumbria, the Lowlands, and Ulster, were cannycommon-sense folk, with a shrewd eye to interest, found, somewhat totheir regret, that there were trades even more profitable than robberyand murder. They therefore concentrated themselves round harbors andriver mouths, and sent forth their ships to all the western seas, fromDublin, Waterford, Wexford, Cork, or Limerick. Every important seaportin Ireland owes its existence to those sturdy Vikings' sons. In each ofthese towns they had founded a petty kingdom, which endured until,and even in some cases after, the conquest of Ireland by Henry II. andStrongbow. They intermarried in the mean while with the native Irish.Brian Boru, for instance, was so connected with Danish royalty, thatit is still a question whether he himself had not Danish blood in hisveins. King Sigtryg Silkbeard, who fought against him at Clontarf,was actually his step-son,--and so too, according to another Irishchronicler, was King Olaff Kvaran, who even at the time of the battle ofClontarf was married to Brian Boru's daughter,--a marriage which (if afact) was startlingly within the prohibited degrees of consanguinity.But the ancient Irish were sadly careless on such points; and asGiraldus Cambrensis says, "followed the example of men of old in theirvices more willingly than in their virtues."
More than forty years had elapsed since that famous battle of Clontarf,and since Ragnvald, Reginald, or Ranald, son of Sigtryg the Norseman,had been slain therein by Brian Boru. On that one day, so the Irishsang, the Northern invaders were exterminated, once and for all, by theMilesian hero, who had craftily used the strangers to fight his battles,and then, the moment they became formidable to himself, crushed them,till "from Howth to Brandon in Kerry there was not a threshing-floorwithout a Danish slave threshing thereon, or a quern without a Danishwoman grinding thereat."
Nevertheless, in spite of the total annihilation of the Danish power inthe Emerald isle, Ranald seemed to the eyes of men to be still a haleold warrior, ruling constitutionally--that is, with a wholesome fearof being outlawed or murdered if he misbehaved--over the Danes inWaterford; with five hundred fair-haired warriors at his back, two-edgedaxe on shoulder and two-edged sword on thigh. His ships drove a thrivingtrade with France and Spain in Irish fish, butter, honey, and furs. Hisworkmen coined money in the old round tower of Dundory, built by hispredecessor and namesake about the year 1003, which stands as Reginald'stower to this day. He had fought many a bloody battle since his death atClontarf, by the side of his old leader Sigtryg Silkbeard. He had beenmany a time to Dublin to visit his even more prosperous and formidablefriend; and was so delighted with the new church of the Holy Trinity,which Sigtryg and his bishop Donatus had just built, not in the Danishor Ostman town, but in the heart of ancient Celtic Dublin, (plain proofof the utter overthrow of the Danish power,) that he had determined tobuild a like church in honor of the Holy Trinity, in Waterford itself.A thriving, valiant old king he seemed, as he sat in his great houseof pine logs under Reginald's Tower upon the quay, drinking French andSpanish wines out of horns of ivory and cups of gold; and over his headhanging, upon the wall, the huge doubled-edged axe with which, so hisflatterers had whispered, Brian Boru had not slain him, but he BrianBoru.
Nevertheless, then as since, alas! the pleasant theory was preferred bythe Milesian historians to the plain truth. And far away inland, monkswrote and harpers sung of the death of Ranald, the fair-haired Fiongall,and all his "mailed swarms."
One Teague MacMurrough, indeed, a famous bard of those parts, composedunto his harp a song of Clontarf, the fame whereof reached Ranald'sears, and so amused him that he rested not day or night till he hadcaught the hapless bard and brought him in triumph into Waterford. Therehe compelled him, at sword's point, to sing, to him and his housecarlesthe Milesian version of the great historical event: and when the harper,in fear and trembling, came to the story of Ranald's own death at BrianBoru's hands, then the jolly old Viking laughed till the tears ran downhis face; and instead of cutting off Teague's head, gave him a cup ofgoodly wine, made him his own harper thenceforth, and bade him send forhis wife and children, and sing to him every day, especially the song ofClontarf and his own death; treating him very much, in fact, as Englishroyalty, during the last generation, treated another Irish bard whosesong was even more sweet, and his notions of Irish history even moregrotesque, than those of Teague MacMurrough.
It was to this old king, or rather to his son Sigtryg, godson of SigtrygSilkbeard, and distant cousin of his own, that Hereward now took hisway, and told his story, as the king sat in his hall, drinking "acrossthe fire," after the old Norse fashion. The fire of pine logs was in themidst of the hall, and the smoke went out through a louver in the roof.On one side was a long bench, and in the middle of it the king's higharm-chair; right and left of him sat his kinsmen and the ladies, and hissea-captains and men of wealth. Opposite, on the other side of the fire,was another bench. In the middle of that sat his marshal, and right andleft all his housecarles. There were other benches behind, on which satmore freemen, but of lesser rank.
And they were all drinking ale, which a servant poured out of a bucketinto a great bull's horn, and the men handed round to each other.
Then Hereward came in, and sat down on the end of the hindermost bench,and Martin stood behind him, till one of the ladies said,--
"Who is that young stranger, who sits behind there so humbly, though,he looks like an earl's son, more fit to sit here with us on the highbench?"
"So he does," quoth King Ranald. "Come forward hither, young sir, anddrink."
And when Hereward came forward, all the ladies agreed that he must be anearl's son; for he had a great gold torc round his neck, and goldrings on his wrists; and a new scarlet coat, bound with gold braid; andscarlet stockings, cross-laced with gold braid up to the knee; and shoestrimmed with martin's fur; and a short blue silk cloak over all, trimmedwith martin's fur likewise; and by his side, in a broad belt with goldstuds, was the Ogre's sword Brain-biter, with its ivory hilt and velvetsheath; and all agreed that if he had but been a head taller, they hadnever seen a properer man.
"Aha! such a gay young sea-cock does not come hither for naught. Drinkfirst, man, and tell us thy business after," and he reached the horn toHereward.
Hereward took it, and sang,--
"In this Braga-beaker, Brave Ranald I pledge; In good liquor, which lightens Long labor on oar-bench; Good liquor, which sweetens The song of the scald."
"Thy voice is as fine as thy feathers, man. Nay, drink it all. W
eourselves drink here by the peg at midday; but a stranger is welcome tofill his inside all hours of the day."
Whereon Hereward finished the horn duly; and at Ranald's bidding, sathim down on the high settle. He did not remark, that as he sat down twohandsome youths rose and stood behind him.
"Now then, Sir Priest," quoth the king, "go on with your story."
A priest, Irish by his face and dress, who sat on the high bench, rose,and renewed an oration which Hereward's entrance had interrupted.
"So, O great King, as says Homerus, this wise king called his earls,knights, sea-captains, and housecarles, and said unto them, 'Which ofthese two kings is in the right, who can tell? But mind you, that thisking of the Enchanters lives far away in India, and we never heard ofhim more than his name; but this king Ulixes and his Greeks live hardby; and which of the two is it wiser to quarrel with, him that liveshard by or him that lives far off? Therefore, King Ranald, says, by themouth of my humility, the great O'Brodar, Lord of Ivark, 'Take exampleby Alcinous, the wise king of Fairy, and listen not to the ambassadorsof those lying villains, O'Dea Lord of Slievardagh, Maccarthy King ofCashel, and O'Sullivan Lord of Knockraffin, who all three between themcould not raise kernes enough to drive off one old widow's cow. Makefriends with me, who live upon your borders; and you shall go peaceablythrough my lands, to conquer and destroy them, who live afar off; asthey deserve, the sons of Belial and Judas.'"
And the priest crost himself, and sat down. At which speech Hereward wasseen to laugh.
"Why do you laugh, young sir? The priest seems to talk like a wise man,and is my guest and an ambassador."
Then rose up Hereward, and bowed to the king. "King Ranald Sigtrygsson,it was not for rudeness that I laughed, for I learnt good manners longere I came here, but because I find clerks alike all over the world."
"How?"
"Quick at hiding false counsel under learned speech. I know nothing ofUlixes, king, nor of this O'Brodar either; and I am but a lad, as yousee: but I heard a bird once in my own country who gave a very differentcounsel from the priest's."
"Speak on, then. This lad is no fool, my merry men all."
"There were three copses, King, in our country, and each copse stood ona hill. In the first there built an eagle, in the second there built asparhawk, in the third there built a crow.
"Now the sparhawk came to the eagle, and said, 'Go shares with me, andwe will kill the crow, and have her wood to ourselves.'
"'Humph!' says the eagle, 'I could kill the crow without your help;however, I will think of it.'
"When the crow heard that, she came to the eagle herself. 'King Eagle,'says she, 'why do you want to kill me, who live ten miles from you, andnever flew across your path in my life? Better kill that little rogueof a sparhawk who lives between us, and is always ready to poach on yourmarches whenever your back is turned. So you will have her wood as wellas your own.'
"'You are a wise crow,' said the eagle; and he went out and killed thesparhawk, and took his wood."
Loud laughed King Ranald and his Vikings all. "Well spoken, young man!We will take the sparhawk, and let the crow bide."
"Nay, but," quoth Hereward, "hear the end of the story. After a whilethe eagle finds the crow beating about the edge of the sparhawk's wood.
"'Oho!' says he, 'so you can poach as well as that little hooknosedrogue?' and he killed her too.
"'Ah!' says the crow, when she lay a-dying, 'my blood is on my own head.If I had but left the sparhawk between me and this great tyrant!'
"And so the eagle got all three woods to himself."
At which the Vikings laughed more loudly than ever; and King Ranald,chuckling at the notion of eating up the hapless Irish princes one byone, sent back the priest (not without a present for his church, forRanald was a pious man) to tell the great O'Brodar, that unless he sentinto Waterford by that day week two hundred head of cattle, a hundredpigs, a hundredweight of clear honey, and as much of wax, Ranald wouldnot leave so much as a sucking-pig alive in Ivark.
The cause of quarrel, of course, was too unimportant to be mentioned.Each had robbed and cheated the other half a dozen times in the lasttwenty years. As for the morality of the transaction, Ranald had thissalve for his conscience,--that as he intended to do to O'Brodar, sowould O'Brodar have gladly done to him, had he been living peaceably inNorway, and O'Brodar been strong enough to invade and rob him. Indeed,so had O'Brodar done already, ever since he wore beard, to everychieftain of his own race whom he was strong enough to ill-treat. Manya fair herd had he driven off, many a fair farm burnt, many a fair womancarried off a slave, after that inveterate fashion of lawless feudswhich makes the history of Celtic Ireland from the earliest times onedull and aimless catalogue of murder and devastation, followed by famineand disease; and now, as he had done to others, so it was to be done tohim.
"And now, young sir, who seem as witty as you are good looking, youmay, if you will, tell us your name and your business. As for the name,however, if you wish to keep it to yourself, Ranald Sigtrygsson is notthe man to demand it of an honest guest."
Hereward looked round and saw Teague MacMurrough standing close to him,harp in hand. He took it from him courteously enough, put a silver pennyinto the minstrel's hand, and running his fingers over the strings, roseand began,--
"Outlaw and free thief, Landless and lawless Through the world fare I, Thoughtless of life. Soft is my beard, but Hard my Brain-biter. Wake, men me call, whom Warrior or watchman Never caught sleeping, Far in Northumberland Slew I the witch-bear, Cleaving his brain-pan, At one stroke I felled him."
And so forth, chanting all his doughty deeds, with such a voice andspirit joined to that musical talent for which he was afterwards sofamous, till the hearts of the wild Norsemen rejoiced, and "Skall to thestranger! Skall to the young Viking!" rang through the hall.
Then showing proudly the fresh wounds on his bare arms, he sang of hisfight with the Cornish ogre, and his adventure with the Princess. Butalways, though he went into the most minute details, he concealed thename both of her and of her father, while he kept his eyes steadilyfixed on Ranald's eldest son, Sigtryg, who sat at his father's righthand.
The young man grew uneasy, red, almost angry; till at last Herewardsang,--
"A gold ring she gave me Right royally dwarf-worked, To none will I pass it For prayer or for sword-stroke, Save to him who can claim it By love and by troth plight, Let that hero speak If that hero be here."
Young Sigtryg half started from his feet: but when Hereward smiled athim, and laid his finger on his lips, he sat down again. Hereward felthis shoulder touched from behind. One of the youths who had risen whenhe sat down bent over him, and whispered in his ear,--
"Ah, Hereward, we know you. Do you not know us? We are the twins, thesons of your sister, Siward the White and Siward the Red, the orphans ofAsbiorn Siwardsson, who fell at Dunsinane."
Hereward sprang up, struck the harp again, and sang,--
"Outlaw and free thief, My kinsfolk have left me, And no kinsfolk need I Till kinsfolk shall need me. My sword is my father, My shield is my mother, My ship is my sister, My horse is my brother."
"Uncle, uncle," whispered one of them, sadly, "listen now or never, forwe have bad news for you and us. Your father is dead, and Earl Algar,your brother, here in Ireland, outlawed a second time."
A flood of sorrow passed through Hereward's heart. He kept it down, andrising once more, harp in hand,--
"Hereward, king, hight I, Holy Leofric my father, In Westminster wiser None walked with King Edward. High minsters he builded, Pale monks he maintained. Dead is he, a bed-death, A leech-death, a priest-death, A straw-death, a cow's death. Such doom I desire not. To high heaven, all so softly, The angels uphand him, In meads of May flowers Mild Mary will meet him. Me, happier, the Valkyrs Shall waft from the war-deck, Shall hail from the holmgang Or helmet-strewn moorland. And sword-strokes my shrift be, Sha
rp spears be my leeches, With heroes' hot corpses High heaped for my pillow."
"Skall to the Viking!" shouted the Danes once more, at this outburst ofheathendom, common enough among their half-converted race, in times whenmonasticism made so utter a divorce between the life of the devotee andthat of the worldling, that it seemed reasonable enough for either partyto have their own heaven and their own hell. After all, Hereward wasnot original in his wish. He had but copied the death-song which hisfather's friend and compeer, Siward Digre, the victor of Dunsinane, hadsung for himself some three years before.
All praised his poetry, and especially the quickness of hisalliterations (then a note of the highest art); and the old king fillingnot this time the horn, but a golden goblet, bid him drain it and keepthe goblet for his song.
Young Sigtryg leapt up, and took the cup to Hereward. "Such a scald," hesaid, "ought to have no meaner cup-bearer than a king's son."
Hereward drank it dry; and then fixing his eyes meaningly on thePrince, dropt the Princess's ring into the cup, and putting it back intoSigtryg's hand, sang,--
"The beaker I reach back More rich than I took it. No gold will I grasp Of the king's, the ring-giver, Till, by wit or by weapon, I worthily win it. When brained by my biter O'Brodar lies gory, While over the wolf's meal Fair widows are wailing."
"Does he refuse my gift?" grumbled Ranald.
"He has given a fair reason," said the Prince, as he hid the ring in hisbosom; "leave him to me; for my brother in arms he is henceforth."
After which, as was the custom of those parts, most of them drank toomuch liquor. But neither Sigtryg nor Hereward drank; and the two Siwardsstood behind their young uncle's seat, watching him with that intenseadmiration which lads can feel for a young man.
That night, when the warriors were asleep, Sigtryg and Hereward talkedout their plans. They would equip two ships; they would fight all thekinglets of Cornwall at once, if need was; they would carry off thePrincess, and burn Alef's town over his head, if he said nay. Nothingcould be more simple than the tactics required in an age when might wasright.
Then Hereward turned to his two nephews who lingered near him, plainlybig with news.
"And what brings you here, lads?" He had hardened his heart, and madeup his mind to show no kindness to his own kin. The day might come whenthey might need him; then it would be his turn.
"Your father, as we told you, is dead."
"So much the better for him, and the worse for England. And Harold andthe Godwinssons, of course, are lords and masters far and wide?"
"Tosti has our grandfather Siward's earldom."
"I know that. I know, too, that he will not keep it long, unless helearns that Northumbrians are free men, and not Wessex slaves."
"And Algar our uncle is outlawed again, after King Edward had given himpeaceably your father's earldom."
"And why?"
"Why was he outlawed two years ago?"
"Because the Godwinssons hate him, I suppose."
"And Algar is gone to Griffin, the Welshman, and from him on to Dublinto get ships, just as he did two years ago; and has sent us here to getships likewise."
"And what will he do with them when he has got them? He burnt Herefordlast time he was outlawed, by way of a wise deed, minster and all, withSt. Ethelbert's relics on board; and slew seven clergymen: but they wereonly honest canons with wives at home, and not shaveling monks, so Isuppose that sin was easily shrived. Well, I robbed a priest of a fewpence, and was outlawed; he plunders and burns a whole minster, and ismade a great earl for it. One law for the weak and one for the strong,young lads, as you will know when you are as old as I. And now I supposehe will plunder and burn more minsters, and then patch up a peace withHarold again; which I advise him strongly to do; for I warn you, younglads, and you may carry that message from me to Dublin to my goodbrother your uncle, that Harold's little finger is thicker than hiswhole body; and that, false Godwinsson as he is, he is the only man witha head upon his shoulders left in England, now that his father, and myfather, and dear old Siward, whom I loved better than my father, aredead and gone."
The lads stood silent, not a little awed, and indeed imposed on, by thecynical and worldly-wise tone which their renowned uncle had assumed.
At last one of them asked, falteringly, "Then you will do nothing forus?"
"For you, nothing. Against you, nothing. Why should I mix myself upin my brother's quarrels? Will he make that white-headed drivellerat Westminster reverse my outlawry? And if he does, what shall Iget thereby? A younger brother's portion; a dirty ox-gang of land inKesteven. Let him leave me alone as I leave him, and see if I do notcome back to him some day, for or against him as he chooses, with such ahost of Vikings' sons as Harold Hardraade himself would be proud of.By Thor's hammer, boys, I have been an outlaw but five years now, and Ifind it so cheery a life, that I do not care if I am an outlaw forfifty more. The world is a fine place and a wide place; and it is a verylittle corner of it that I have seen yet; and if you were of my mettle,you would come along with me and see it throughout to the four cornersof heaven, instead of mixing yourselves up in these paltry littlequarrels with which our two families are tearing England in pieces,and being murdered perchance like dogs at last by treachery, as SweynGodwinsson murdered Biorn."
The boys listened, wide-eyed and wide-eared. Hereward knew to whom hewas speaking; and he had not spoken in vain.
"What do you hope to get here?" he went on. "Ranald will give youno ships: he will have enough to do to fight O'Brodar; and he is toocunning to thrust his head into Algar's quarrels."
"We hoped to find Vikings here, who would go to any war on the hope ofplunder."
"If there be any, I want them more than you; and, what is more, I willhave them. They know that they will do finer deeds with me for theircaptain than burning a few English homesteads. And so may you. Come withme, lads. Once and for all, come. Help me to fight O'Brodar. Then helpme to another little adventure which I have on hand,--as pretty a one asever you heard a minstrel sing,--and then we will fit out a longship ortwo, and go where fate leads,--to Constantinople, if you like. What canyou do better? You never will get that earldom from Tosti. Lucky foryoung Waltheof, your uncle, if he gets it,--if he, and you too, arenot murdered within seven years; for I know Tosti's humor, when he hasrivals in his way----"
"Algar will protect us," said one.
"I tell you, Algar is no match for the Godwinssons. If the monk-kingdied to-morrow, neither his earldom nor his life would be safe. When Isaw your father Asbiorn lie dead at Dunsinane, I said, 'There ends theglory of the house of the bear;' and if you wish to make my words comefalse, then leave England to founder and rot and fall to pieces,--as allmen say she is doing,--without your helping to hasten her ruin; and seekglory and wealth too with me around the world! The white bear's blood isin your veins, lads. Take to the sea like your ancestor, and come overthe swan's bath with me!"
"That we will!" said the two lads. And well they kept their word.